Post by Verasque on Aug 12, 2010 13:16:10 GMT 10
Title: Coup D'Oeil
Rating: PG
Prompt: #30 Eyes, #31 Found
Summary: Cooper stares at him, willing him to cower or bend, but Jon does neither.
Jonathan doesn't know why he goes back. All he remembers is mumbling an undoubtedly pathetic excuse to Uncle Gareth that he can't recall, grabbing his grey cloak once again, and striding without purpose until he is standing awkwardly in the middle of a tavern full of grumbling commoners. His pulse thunders steadily beneath the cool of his disguised calm, the woman sitting closest to him feeding her babe from a generous, half-unclothed breast.
He's already forgotten how different these people are. How brazen and blunt and altogether disconcerting.
And their king, surprised eyes a touch mystified, is standing in front of Jon with his arms crossed and his feet shoulder-width apart. Asserting his territory—and his power in it. “Shouldn't ye be having supper with yer fellows, lad? Tis late to be prowlin' the Court of the Rogue at this hour. Unaccompanied.”
Jon ignores the snickers around him, and lifts his chin. He might be fifteen and naïve to these hard, rough folks, but he's also the Crown Prince of Tortall. His presence, he hopes, says this to George Cooper. “I left something by accident earlier,” Jon lies, crossing his fingers in his pockets like Alan would. “I didn't want to leave it behind.”
Cooper stares at him, willing him to cower or bend, but Jon does neither. Instead, he remains still and tries not to think of the new prized mount making a home in the royal stables or the sapphire ring now in the Rogue's possession.
“And how valuable is this thing you left behind?”
He's not stupid. The question is a test. Jon considers how he'll answer, and decides on the truth. If he fails to win their trust, how much of a knight – of a ruler – will he be? “Important enough to destroy a kingdom,” he replies fiercely; foolishly. Because this is more than just a fascination, he realises that now. If he wants to be more, he's got to be more. He is theirs, he promises. And one day they'll be his. His in the way that they'll never belong to his father.
Raised brows and whistles meet his reply, snorts of disbelief and amusement, but George isn't laughing. He's pulling out a chair and motioning Jon to sit beside him. “Get the lad a drink, Solom,” George orders quietly. Maybe Jon will learn more from this king than his own. “Johnny's on a long hunt tonight.”
Solom appraises Jon, takes in his fancy-plain clothes and wide eyes. “Name's Johnny then? Yer folks are merchants or sommin?”
“Hm. I'm a friend of Ge—his Majesty's,” Jon replies, voice steady. His hands, however, shake, and the cool brew sloshes over the rim of the cup and onto his fingers. But unlike the courtiers in the palace, the patrons here ignore him. Jonathan finds he's never been more glad.
Rating: PG
Prompt: #30 Eyes, #31 Found
Summary: Cooper stares at him, willing him to cower or bend, but Jon does neither.
Jonathan doesn't know why he goes back. All he remembers is mumbling an undoubtedly pathetic excuse to Uncle Gareth that he can't recall, grabbing his grey cloak once again, and striding without purpose until he is standing awkwardly in the middle of a tavern full of grumbling commoners. His pulse thunders steadily beneath the cool of his disguised calm, the woman sitting closest to him feeding her babe from a generous, half-unclothed breast.
He's already forgotten how different these people are. How brazen and blunt and altogether disconcerting.
And their king, surprised eyes a touch mystified, is standing in front of Jon with his arms crossed and his feet shoulder-width apart. Asserting his territory—and his power in it. “Shouldn't ye be having supper with yer fellows, lad? Tis late to be prowlin' the Court of the Rogue at this hour. Unaccompanied.”
Jon ignores the snickers around him, and lifts his chin. He might be fifteen and naïve to these hard, rough folks, but he's also the Crown Prince of Tortall. His presence, he hopes, says this to George Cooper. “I left something by accident earlier,” Jon lies, crossing his fingers in his pockets like Alan would. “I didn't want to leave it behind.”
Cooper stares at him, willing him to cower or bend, but Jon does neither. Instead, he remains still and tries not to think of the new prized mount making a home in the royal stables or the sapphire ring now in the Rogue's possession.
“And how valuable is this thing you left behind?”
He's not stupid. The question is a test. Jon considers how he'll answer, and decides on the truth. If he fails to win their trust, how much of a knight – of a ruler – will he be? “Important enough to destroy a kingdom,” he replies fiercely; foolishly. Because this is more than just a fascination, he realises that now. If he wants to be more, he's got to be more. He is theirs, he promises. And one day they'll be his. His in the way that they'll never belong to his father.
Raised brows and whistles meet his reply, snorts of disbelief and amusement, but George isn't laughing. He's pulling out a chair and motioning Jon to sit beside him. “Get the lad a drink, Solom,” George orders quietly. Maybe Jon will learn more from this king than his own. “Johnny's on a long hunt tonight.”
Solom appraises Jon, takes in his fancy-plain clothes and wide eyes. “Name's Johnny then? Yer folks are merchants or sommin?”
“Hm. I'm a friend of Ge—his Majesty's,” Jon replies, voice steady. His hands, however, shake, and the cool brew sloshes over the rim of the cup and onto his fingers. But unlike the courtiers in the palace, the patrons here ignore him. Jonathan finds he's never been more glad.